MAKEBA MOONCYCLE - Mind, Body & Soul lyrics

rate me

[Makeba Mooncycle]If you're not trying to build, why do I have to kill yaWith lyrics to kill, it's never been realerBuild the house of steel, versus sex appearsShine like the Moon, flip my mood to doomHyper than a tab, got the gift of gabWriter resurrected, traders beheadedThis beat's is regreted, competition gets deadedWhat's the matter with my words, harsh to the nervesDarts stay on lock, the traders get knockedSpray ship fatigues, it's all about the meWith every emotion I breathe, not to squeezeTempted to release, hard to keep the peaceBust only if frustration, elevate eliminatingSoon be penetrating, sugar coated segregatingTo minds I'm stimulating, my lyrics amputatedSo why are you waiting?[Chorus: Makeba Mooncycle]Makeba's on the mic, and you know I gets downSo come on party people, let's gather aroundI'm here to rock your mind, to your body and soulSo come on party people, let's take control[Makeba Mooncycle]In the combation Gods, dismembered and disbaredSlit, I hit hard, surrounds me on GodThe mother of your hawk, making hearts stopFor we ride to rock, I tracks like PacKeep it up non stop, bams til you dropI aim to be the greatest, while others remain tastingSome not creative, they lay with the hatersI gotta keep it moving, peep you while you groovingI gaves you the must, let's keep it on the hushHush identification, a real M.C.Keeping you moving from your head to your feetStraight catch no meat, you chickens'll eatWave the white flag, yo, retreat, facing yo heatLet's take it to the streets, no justice, no peaceNo thoughts of defeat, casualties, don't delete, casualties, don't delete[Chorus 2X][Makeba Mooncycle]I want hear impressive lyrics and flows, no nursingNothing that your man wrote or you been rehearsingMy trick tricks all clid-icks, usually when I'm in itLike the sign, multiplied, unified your prideAnd your friends eat like LaTania McClideThey start shaking, and moving all aroundControl your mental, and listen to the soundsTouch me like a pita, the sound of MakebaAnd the God penalty, I'm in, some suckas wanna get mePeel me, beats are crispy, when I'm gone, you'll miss me, you know my historyFeel with no mystery, the sounds of black and never got politeSmacked with another revelation, you know what I'm sayingWhile you busy doing what you told, give me that micYou know you shouldn't even hold, all used up with no more chancesYou better off doing all them table dances[Chorus 4X]

$(document).ready(function() {

// put all your jQuery goodness in here.

// $("#myshare").hide();

$("#lyrics").mousemove(function(e){

$("#myshare").css({visibility:'visible'});

$("#myshare").css({left:$("#right_content").position().left-60,top:e.pageY-10});

$("#myshare").show();

// alert('r');

});

$("#lyrics").mouseout(function(e){

$("#myshare").hide();

// alert('d');

});

});